Staples of Life
by Opal Soul
Summary: Usagi hates Valentine's Day until she receives a gift from someone's heart... now if only he would sign his name!
1. Prologue: Cursed Day

Staples of Life  
Prologue [Cursed Day]  
By: Opal Soul  
Disclaimer: Do you *think* I'm talented enough to own Sailor Moon?  
  
It was Valentine's Day. And boy, did she hate that day. All those happy red and pink balloons floating in the air, attached to whimsical white strings; all those long-stemmed red roses; all those creamy, molded chocolates; all those cuddly teddy bears sporting bowties-- it just wasn't her style.  
  
It wasn't that she never received valentines; in fact, she got more than what was probably her fair share. Her long, sunny blonde hair had a peculiar charm of its own, and the uniqueness of her hairstyle only added to it. Her big, sparkling blue eyes were hidden sometimes in a downcast gaze of creamy eyelids and smoky, natural eyelashes. She was very petite at 4'11", but her legs gave off the illusion of stretching from here to eternity.   
  
She hated the cursed, blasted day because it always meant the same thing: her locker stuffed with misspelled love notes [Not that she could tell the difference, of course.], her desktop crowded with bouquets of hothouse flowers [She was allergic to daffodils, but the silly boys insisted on sending them to her, claiming them to be oh-so-fitting for her personality.], her seat obstructed with giant stuffed bunnies [Another ridiculous joke; one year, an admirer thought it cute to send Usagi her namesake... it was cute, but the fad got a bit annoying.], her lunchbox filled to overflowing with cutely-shaped chocolates [Finally, something practical.], and... and...   
  
Chiba Mamoru teasing her.  
  
"Did anybody give you odangoes this year, Usa-baka?" he taunted two years ago.  
  
Freshly fourteen, barely 4'9", Usagi screeched and shook her fist at the self-assured high school sophomore*. "At least I got something, Minus Zero! Which is more than what I can say for you!"  
  
And then he froze in the moment, his smile frosted before it could reach his mouth...   
  
Usagi almost wished she could place the situation in reverse; although the handsome high school student leaning on the counter was much taller, well-muscled, and much smarter... she almost felt like a bully, like she had just kicked a soaked, crying dog with its tail between its legs. The image was hilarious; Mamoru, a furry dog? She laughed.  
  
But the next year wasn't so amusing.  
  
The entire Valentine's Day, Mamoru snuggled in a booth near the back, hidden partly by the shadows and letting the mysterious light reflect on his shiny black hair occasionally as he shifted. His black coffee was cold in the white mug. Not a perfect black strand of silken hair flew out of place when a blond whirlwind dashed by as quickly as the wind.  
  
A couple seconds later, Usagi's nose was level to the coffee, sniffing. "Black? Yick! Only you, Minus Zero!"  
  
Mamoru would have liked to answer with his usual witty comment... but he was momentarily occupied, sucking faces with the girl who flirted with him constantly in and out of school, a girl who aspired to be a lawyer, a girl who now drew away from her hard-won prize, breathing, "Oh, Mamoru! I... hey, who's that?"  
  
Mamoru swiveled his head just in time to see two streamers of blond hair fleeing and storming in the direction of the Sailor V games. He smiled crookedly, "Oh, just some girl I know. Nothing to worry about, Saori.**" He waved his hand dismissingly.  
  
Usagi was determined *not* to be dismissed, and this year, she would prove it. Amazingly calm and collected, she would brush past he and his precious, stupid girlfriend making out in the back booth. Astoundingly cold and harsh, she would give him steel for steel, clashing verbally with the mocking senior and drawing herself up to her full 4'11", unbreakable confidence written in every line of her sixteen-year-old body. Tantalizingly beautiful and gorgeous, she would bait him, lead him on, flirt with him... and drop him like the rotten, overripe fruit he was.  
  
Provided, of course, that she didn't drown in his oceans of cynical blue eye.  
  
Provided, of course, that his overpowering cologne didn't invade her senses too quickly.  
  
Provided, of course, that the sight of him didn't send her slobbering, drooling, and driveling at his feet, bleeding heart palpitating before his scornful gaze.  
  
It was going to be a long, terrible day. Boy, did she hate that day... almost as much as she hated loving Mamoru...   
  
~~~*~~~*@ @*~~~*~~~  
Copyrighted/Written: February 7, 2001.  
AN: Not to worry, the ending has already been written. Although the chapters in between aren't quite ready, LOL. Anyway, hope to span this over the month of February. It's my Valentine's Day fic. "*"-- ah, yes, I closed the age gap between them. Just my... uhhh, authoress-prowess. "**"-- appeared in a Pegasus-type episode. I hate Saori, grrr... don't know why, just do. Anyway, I really do enjoy mail of all kinds, as long as the flames give me reasons for their hatred... hehehe, I *do* write back, just not necessarily right away... after all, school takes up most of life. o_O;; Flames, comments, and suggestions are VERY welcome at spots_goil@juno.com OR Dariens_Bunny@sailormoon.com.  
Thanks to: my wonderful spell-check.  
"If I am a jewel, as a dear friend once flirtatiously dubbed me, I am an opal. Fiery ice swirling in the milk-white of innocence. Passion and compassion. Myself to the core." Surprisingly enough, I wrote that. It's just to clarify any questions on my strange pen-name. 


	2. Chapter One: Oh, Beautiful Morning

Staples of Life  
Chapter One [Oh, Beautiful Morning]  
By: Opal Soul  
Disclaimer: Do you *think* I'm talented enough to own Sailor Moon?  
  
Usagi's feet were bare, resting peacefully on the luscious green grass dotted with the delicate fingers of spring blossoms. Her golden hair spilled over her white-clad shoulders and contrasted with the deep darkness of Mamoru's armor. She leaned her head on Mamoru's shoulder, and he smiled down at her lovingly. A bluejay let loose its cheerful melody.  
  
The hand resting possessively around Usagi's slender waist allowed its sinewed fingers to trace a pattern into the silken folds of white. Her nose wrinkled in a futile attempt not to laugh. "Geesh, Mamo-chan! Give a girl her space!" she sniffed indignantly, nudging his hand.  
  
"And here I thought you loved me," he chuckled, leaning forward.  
  
"Oh, but Mamo-chan, I do! I do love you!" she breathed, craning her neck upwards.  
  
"Well, Usa-chan, don't know who this 'Mamo-chan' of yours is, but you'd better hope Daddy never hears about him." Tsukino Ikuko bent over her daughter's sprawled form, an amused expression on her face.  
  
"Gaaa-k, Mommy! I-- I didn't know you were standing there!" Usagi wailed, rubbing her eyes with her fists.  
  
"Usa, it's not like you could have known when you were drooling and sleeping," her mother clucked disapprovingly. "Now get up and ready for school. It's 7:34."  
  
"Mommm! Why didn't you wake me? I'm so laaate!"  
  
Ikuko shook her head in the hall, used to Usagi's childish, and quite unreasonable, rants. Luna stretched her lithe body, arching it upward in a tired yawn. "She's right, you know, Usagi. You should learn to be more responsible; you were supposed to meet the girls for your Valentine Breakfast half an hour ago."  
  
Usagi grumbled, deftly kicking the protesting black cat in her gut. "They should know by now I'm never on time."  
  
The blonde let out a yelp as sharp cat claws dug into her legs. "And you should know by now that we go through this same routine every morning," Luna chuckled, immediately leaping to take her place on Usagi's now-empty pillow. The seething blonde, rubbing her wounds with tears shining in her eyes, surprised Luna by unfolding herself from her hunched position and grabbing her bedside bathrobe. "Usagi, I'm surprised. You're actually learning some responsibi-- yeow!" The scratching, fighting black cat was engulfed, spitting angrily, in the terry material as Usagi chuckled, hauling into the bathroom.  
  
The showerhead hissed into life, and steam filled the tiny room. Mewls of protest sounded throughout the house, as well as several shrieks of, "You stupid cat! Leggo of my hair!"  
  
Ten minutes later, a cleaner, still grumpy Usagi emerged from the bathroom, clothed in the traditional sailor uniform Juuban issued. Her hair, still damp and a bit clumpy as a result of a hasty drying, was swept into its usual style. She hummed as she grabbed her backpack from the chair, ignoring her mother's distinct yell, "Usagi! You have sixteen minutes till school starts!" She slammed the door resolutely.  
  
"Ahhh! I thought this was Valentine's Day with beautiful girls, not odangoed monsters!" Shingo screamed, grabbing at his throat mockingly, pretending to collapse.  
  
Usagi displayed her tongue briefly, just before her mother stuffed a piece of toast in it and pushed a glass of freshly-squeezed orange juice into her hand. "Thanks, Mom," Usagi mumbled.  
  
A hand grabbed Usagi's bookbag, making it spill its contents on the floor. "Hehehe, Usagi can't even hold her bag right!" Shingo taunted.  
  
"Oh, Usagi, it's all right; I'll help you pick this-- WHAT IS THIS? A 37!? And a 24!? Why haven't I ever seen these test papers before?" Ikuko's face expanded, turning red and purple, looking as if to explode.  
  
"Ehh, hehe, Mom-- look at the time; I'm going to be laaate!" Usagi snatched her bag and ran.  
  
She ran straight into Shingo's mischievous foot. Usagi spit out the carpet rapidly and picked herself up, throwing open the door without glancing back. If she did, she was liable to be grounded for those scores. How was she supposed to explain that she hadn't finished the tests because she was busy thinking of Chiba Mamoru? That would go over well; her mom would start sighing before turning red and screaming, Shingo would make smooching noises as well as a kissy face, chanting the cursed "In a Tree" chant, while her dad would turn purple, grab for his gun, and hunt down the so-called CM-- child molester.  
  
"Hey, Odango Brains!" Shingo called. "You forgot your lunch!"  
  
********  
  
Usagi groaned; not only was the sidesticker literally killing her, she was late for school, *and* she had seen neither hide nor hair of that gorgeous jerk, the reason for her life-- that... ohhh, there he was. Right on time, checking his watch, ugly olive coat in place, every immaculate detail perfect. She smiled secretly, then picked up her pace, just in time to crash into--   
  
Something cool came in contact with her lips. "Hey, Odango Atama," a mocking voice said, "that's the only thing you'll get to kiss today."  
  
Her eyes fluttered open to glance straight into the unrelenting silver metal of--  
  
The pole. She had missed her moving target and kissed-- quite by accident, of course-- the pole. If the day gets any worse, she moaned, I'll just kill myself. Literally.  
  
"Thinking of killing yourself? I'd be happy to do the job for you."  
  
"I can do it myself, thank you," she managed coldly, refusing to let the tears flow. It was only when she was a block away from the staring senior that her shoulders hunched themselves in defeat and her tears spilled, pulsing and silent, onto her cheeks and to the pavement below. Nothing's going my way, she thought despondently. I hate this day with a passion, and I hate Chiba Mamoru.  
  
Maybe if she repeated it to herself enough times, she'd come to believe it.  
  
********  
  
Her cheeks dried of the salty tears and her eyes calm, Usagi walked into homeroom thirteen minutes late. She waited expectantly for Haruna-sensei to burst into lecture, but the moment never came, as the teacher was happily sniffing her bouquet of roses and fingering the bowtie of the teddy bear her fiance had sent her. Usagi sighed with relief, trudging toward her desk, legs [She had run a good distance!] aching to rest.  
  
A giant pink bunny with a white bowtie and a toothy grin sat in her metal chair, with its arms outstretched and spread wide.  
  
~~~*~~~*@ @*~~~*~~~  
  
Copyrighted/Written: February 11, 2001.  
Did this chapter make sense? Basically, everything that can go wrong-- DID. And uhhh... the last sentence is just to emphasize the first chapter, the way she feels about stuffed bunnies, and basically how it even deprives her of sitting. o_O;; I do love Mamoru, but he's a jerk in the anime... or is he? Hehe... anyway, all flames, comments, and feedback are welcome at spots_goil@juno.com OR Dariens_Bunny@sailormoon.com. I'm sorry if this chapter isn't as good as the others; the sole purpose of this has already been explained.  
Thanks to: my wonderful spell-check.  
"If I am a jewel, as a dear friend once flirtatiously dubbed me, I am an opal. Fiery ice swirling in the milk-white of innocence. Passion and compassion. Myself to the core." Surprisingly enough, I wrote that. It's just to clarify any questions on my strange pen-name. 


End file.
